


Day 13

by galvelociraptor



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cooking Lessons, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 18:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16372856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galvelociraptor/pseuds/galvelociraptor
Summary: Prompt: you teach a cooking class and i’m the worst student you’ve ever had





	Day 13

A muffled ‘fwomp’ could be heard from the back corner of the classroom. Stiles facepalmed as hard as he could, before looking over. Sure enough, Derek Hale had managed to set something on fire. Explosively. AGAIN.

He sighed, then grabbed the nearby fire extinguisher and moved to contain the flames, which were not only three feet high, but also had a disturbing green color around the edges.

“How do you even manage this, Mr. Hale?” Stiles asked as he sprayed fire suppressant foam on Derek’s latest ‘creation’. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t give you anything flammable after what happened last time…”

Derek’s gorgeous face was beet red, but he still managed a weak smile directed at Stiles.

“I guess I just need more practice…”

“Well, we have another class coming up, but I’m not sure I should let you enroll. You’ve managed to destroy several countertops, countless frying pans, and that one oven has never been the same since. At the very least, I should start charging you hazard pay.”

“Sure, sure, whatever you like.” Derek said, agreeing a little too quickly for Stiles’ comfort. Stiles glared at him, but moved on to praise some of his other students, who had managed to produce lovely desserts, and not one of the others had caught fire.

It was too bad Derek was so cute. And that he had the greatest laugh, when you got him going. And he always talked about his sisters. And seemed to really want to succeed at the cooking and baking tasks that Stiles set for his students. And always listened whenever Stiles talked, even when he went on and on about the taxonomy of the order Chiroptera. Stiles groaned quietly to himself, cleaning up after his students had gone home for the night.

*

“…and he took me to that new restaurant, Full Moon? It was amazing! Their chef, is like super hot. He’s got stubble, but it so works for him! And his eyes? O-M-G, so pretty! I still can’t figure out what color they are, but wow. WOW.”

“I heard his biceps were basketball-sized.” Middle-aged Lady #2 said with a leer.

“Well, not quite that big, but damn is he built nice. It’s too bad they wear those baggy chef pants, because I bet his ass is fine, too.” Middle-aged Lady #1 giggled with her friend.

Stiles stood stockstill in the middle of the Starbucks, his latte forgotten.

That description had really sounded like Derek.

*

“Fess up, Mr. Hale. What the HELL are you doing in my class?”

Derek stared at Stiles blankly.

“I’m here to learn how to cook?” he said, a little uncertainly.

“See, I’m not sure I believe that, because I took a little virtual field trip to a website for a local restaurant. You may have heard of it? It’s called Full Moon.”

Derek’s face had turned white.

“And whaddaya know, they had a picture on the website of their head chef, a Mr. D. Hale. Looks an awful lot like you.”

“It’s not what you think…”

“What? Are you here to laugh at me? Mock my culinary skills? WHAT?” Stiles’ volume had increased as he spoke, to a screech at the end.

Derek sighed.

“I wanted to…ask you out, and my sister dared me to take your class so I could get to know you.”

Stiles stared at him.

“But I really enjoyed spending time with you, and I was afraid you’d say ‘no’, so I’ve been…sabotaging my projects.”

Stiles continued to stare.

“I’m sorry. I know it was inappropriate of me to do this, and I’m sorry for wasting your time. You’re a great teacher.”

Derek walked quickly, almost sprinting, to leave the store.

Crickets could be heard from the other students.

“Well?”

Stiles turned to look at blue-haired Mrs. Brown.

“Well what?” Stiles asked.

“Aren’t you going to go after him?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Stiles said, primly.

“Oh, please,” Mrs. Brown’s wife, the cotton-candy-haired Mrs. O’Malley replied tartly. “We’ve watched you stare at his ass more than we have.”

“And we were looking a lot,” Mrs. Brown said in a stage whisper.

“Go get ‘im!” said Mr. Jones. “We’re rooting for you!”

“We’ll clean up, too,” said Mrs. O’Malley. “It’s the least we could do after you taught us to make a souffle that doesn’t collapse.”

There were general murmurs of agreement, and Stiles said ‘thanks’ before racing outside.

Derek was unlocking his car when Stiles caught up to him.

“Derek! Derek, wait!”

“Stiles?” Derek asked, turning around.

“You didn’t give me a chance to respond!”

Derek looked a little nervous.

“Would you like to see a movie with me sometime? I was gonna say ‘get dinner’ but I think we should maybe stay away from that for a little while,” Stiles said, laughingly.

“I would love to,” Derek replied, a grin lighting up his face.

**Author's Note:**

> One of the days of fic from my NaNotWriMo 2016. (I called it NaNOTWriMo because I had no intention of writing 50K, and indeed I didn't.)


End file.
